In Memory of

She laughed, while I tried to block them out. I cursed them for ruining my moment! I expected a little more decency today of all days. I ­wasn’t asking for porch dwellers with violins, but I had been hoping for a little peace and ­quiet.

“I miss that bitch!” I heard the man behind me ­say.

“Who? Your ex-wife?” the redhead ­asked.

He grunted, “Yes.”

­“It’s okay to miss her,” she ­said.

“You know I still have our wedding pictures,” he ­replied.

­“It’s important to hold on to memories, as long as you ­don’t hold on too tightly,” she told ­him.

It was as if she was speaking directly to me. I wanted to shout out “thank you” and maybe even “sorry” for judging you so quickly. It may not have been Don LaFontaine or a lady with a violin, but the redhead and her hungover friend spoke exactly what I needed to ­hear.

My day remembering my dad may not have turned out exactly as I would have expected, but nonetheless it was perfect. I sat quietly on the beach taking in the sound of the water and the murmur of a hungover dude and his rebound girlfriend while thinking of my dad. I ­couldn’t have asked for ­more.

Thanks for sharing this, Siobhan. It really struck home with me. My dad died 13 years ago, on Halloween night. Each Halloween since then has been very different from the previous ones. Like you, I always wonder what the day will be like....
Also, like you, I panic a bit when I can't remember certain things about him. I've been dreaming about my dad a lot lately, and I remember things I thought I had forgotten. I hope you hear your dad's voice again in your dreams.